QT with Dust Bunnies

The only words that can properly be used to describe the story below would be “only me!”

So, the Canadian Bacon was a bit excited about a package with her Christmas presents that arrived from her Auntie Tara out in Vancouver, BC. I already knew the contents of the box. The smallest package contained an adorable princess book which had puzzle pieces to it. Simple and harmless enough you would think. I know it is not Christmas but I thought I would allow Bacon to open that one gift. It was all fun and games in the beginning. We went through every page reading the story and then taking apart and putting back together the puzzle with the story. Somehow during this fun and adorable mother/daughter bonding, a poor lonely puzzle piece slides between the wall and lands underneath the bed. “Oh toe!!!” shouts the Bacon. Piece of cake I was thinking. I can get that from behind the bed. The search is on now. I am glaring between the thin slit between my bed and the wall. Nothing. Ugh. I realize that I must actually get off my butt and climb down beside the bed and look to see if the piece had fallen further into the dust bunny land under the bed. Yup! Sure had. Just out of the reach of my arm. Well honestly, since I have a California King size bed, it was just out of the reach of two of my arm lengths. Ahhhhh ha! I see a clothes hanger. I start using the hanger to poke and jab at the puzzle piece to try and get that stubborn prissy pink piece ,which happened to be Cinderella’s head, to roll my way. Yeah, no such luck. Really, how difficult can this be? The whole time the Canadian Bacon is in the background still gasping “oh toe, oh toe Mommy.” If I could just get a few more inches closers to that piece than I am sure I could hook it with the hanger. I was slowly inching my body under the bed. It was a very tight squeeze but I sucked in my ribs and managed to get half my body under the bed and knocked the puzzle piece clear out from under the bed. The Bacon recovered it on the other side of the bed. I could see her chunky toes wiggling back and forth with excitement that she now could assemble Cinderalla’s head back to the puzzle. I was a bit relieved it was over too……..um, well, kind of because all at once I realized I could not move. I was seriously stuck. Somehow I had wedged myself so far up under the bed that I could not get out. The only thing sticking out from under the bed were my orange capri sweatpants. Think, think, think. There is no way I am stuck under this bed. The Bacon has now noticed that it is taking Mommy way too long to come out and she walks over to my side of the bed and lifts the skirting of the bed and says “you stuck Mommy?” “Well yes, baby, Mommy is stuck.” I replied. Her mouth opens wide and she exclaims with both hands on her face “oh toe, Mommy stuck!” I was hoping my sister was still in the house and had not went to work yet. I sent the Bacon searching for her “Ash-wee. Oh toe! Mommy stuck. Bed got Mommy stuck!” I did not hear any answer from Ashley. This situation seems to be getting worse. The Bacon got to thinking before I did and slid my cell phone up under the bed to me. I started making phone calls. The first of course was to Ashley to explain my dilemma who I think through the snorting and laughing said she was on her way over. The other was to my Mother because if anyone else should get to witness this, it would be her and then I start receiving phone calls while laying under the bed and since I had nothing better to do than start naming the dust bunnies, I figured what the hay, why not answer them. My favorite part of these conversations was when you say “hello” and they respond with “hey, whatcha doing?” I am pretty sure I did my part in giving giggles to some of my friends. Odd to me is that every single one of them would say, are you sure you are stuck? Um, hell yeah! I cannot move. I am not voluntarily showing up for a dust bunnies Girl Scout meeting under my own bed. All this time, the Bacon is jumping on the bed on top of me and having fun landing on my butt. This is when I realize that I probably should not have guzzled that soda earlier. My rib cages were beginning to get real sore and I was plotting ways to remove my lady lumps to wedge myself out from under the bed. Just when I could not take any more I hear my sister’s cackle and what I am sure to be the flash of a camera! She made sure to get a few more of those also! Thanks Ash-Wee!!!!! Thank goodness she arrived. I had become so close with this one dust bunny that we were discussing matching tattoos.

I am free!!!

New Awakening

It is time for HellCat to wake up. I need to crawl out from under my very fashionably decorated rock and check on my blog fans. I have taken way too much time off. My vacation is over. I am back. Ready to rambling and rant about anything and everything going on in my world, the kids world, my odd moo moo neighbor's world and blast it off into the wonderful blog disco land world while riding my disco stick through the trails winding through your brains. Can you handle it? Are you ready to understand for ten seconds and get confused in the next five seconds? I even have the very best 70's music blasting in the background to add to the mood. HellCat has on her tight leather pants and moccasins boots. Hair all beaded in piggy tails and tattooed pictures of all the zodiac signs in all the unbearable places on her body. Apparently Hellcat has been deprived from the real world and decided to make her own world up under that rock she had been chilling under. Pretty comfortable place. Lava lamp, disco ball and beanie bag chairs. Not to mention the lovely beads that hang down from the door ways. The curiosity of what is behind those beads starts making you curious. What in the hell is in there? Are you scared?? Come on, tip, toe one ittle bittle foot past the unknown that this door offers. Come on in and join me. let's find out what the HellCat has been up to and what hurricane of thoughts she has blasting around in her tiny blonde head that needs to be released. Until the next time, it might be best if you run out the stores and and buy out all the milk and bread.....board up all the windows and make sure there are plenty of candles to be lit. There is no telling what a storm is about to be released. She is called HellCat for a reason. Hope you guys are ready. I am! See you tomorrow night for my first off the wall antics.
xoxo

Canadian Bacon's Meow

I should just rename my blog the Canadian Bacon's Meow. It seems she is the leader of my life these days and holds the spotlight when it comes to my stories. Oh my is she a hand full and a half........times five! That two year old is winding the ticker in my back and setting me free into whatever direction she would like to send me for the day. I have seriously considered contacting Nanny 911 or whatever that show is. Dear funny speaking British lady, if you happen to accidentally fall upon this blog and see my big white surrender flag flying high then come quickly or send your mean British Nanny cousin to assist me. I am afraid the Canadian Bacon does not speak southern Mommy slang and laughs at my "No Ma'am". She has no fear of heights when trying to sneak a cookie or M&M's and threatens to beat me in the middle of Target. I am not exaggerating. I jokingly told the Bacon while shopping at Target that if she touched one more thing, I would beat her. Um, yeah! Her response was in Canadian Bacon lingo...."No, I eat u Mum! Which I think she meant beat me, not eat me. Who knows with that kids appetite. She is named the Canadian Bacon for one reason. Well, two reasons. Her Daddy is Canadian and she is a big chunky BACON! She takes her food very seriously and unfortunately seems to lean towards the unhealthy food groups. In the Bacon's world, french fries could be exchanged as money. If you had a hundred dollar bill in your left hand and one single french fry in right, Brooke would take your right hand off trying to devour that fry!!! No kidding. I cannot pass a McDonald's without her screaming "BENCH BRY" which obviously is french fry. We do not eat McDonald's that often. Maybe once, at the most twice a month. I thought I had done a good job keeping my kids healthy. My other two do not have this issue. Let me give you a perfect example of the Bacon demanding some greasy intake. I had to go to CVS Pharmacy this evening. Needed to pick up my prescription. I pull up to the window and give the pharmacy lady my name and she shuts the window to get my prescription. Brooke immediately starts screaming "Bench Bry, Bench Bryyyy, BEEEEEEEEEENCHHHHHH BRY!" Great, now my kid is conditioned to believe that a drive-thru means she gets some greasy cellulite inducing french fries. I kept telling the Bacon that "CVS does not make BENCH BRIES my dear butter butt." "Mommy is very sorry but no BENCH BRIES tonight." She starts getting really angry and the Pharmacist has returned to the window. Suddenly, the Bacon launches her naked baby doll at me. It nearly missed my head! Geez! I was almost assaulted by a naked Baby Love a Lots doll. Nice. Real Nice. I signed my receipt and collected my prescription. We pulled off with no BENCH BRIES and an extremely pissed Canadian Bacon. Maybe I should have nicknamed this kid the Canadian Bull (not sure if there is such a thing). The Bacon was fuming and I think I saw her eyes turn red. She was sure I was holding out too. Of course she saw the Pharmacist lady hand me a bag. Normally any bag that comes from a drive-thru window is packed with BENCH BRIES!!! I had to open the bag and show her there were not any BENCH BRIES. I felt like I was being interrogated by a midget speaking in tongue. I just wanted to say.........wait a gosh darn minute, who runs this show here? No really, who runs this show? I think I need help. Anyone got any good suggestions on books to read?? I seem to be struggling on making it obvious who the Mommy is here!

Bye Bye To My Favorite Jeans

Sadly, I am writing to say a farewell to my favorite pair of jeans. Unfortunately, I ripped a fist size hole below my back pocket today. My jeans were starting to show geriatric signs recently and I knew it was not long from happening. They had been downgraded from the Make My Ass Look Good jeans that you would wear out with the girls at a bar, to the flip flops and sweatshirt jeans you love to lounge in. I was happy with them being downgraded. We had grown close. We spent many of hours doing house work and laundry together. Making unexpected trips to the grocery or gas station. They were always ready and unwrinkled. Felt like home when I slipped my legs into them. They fit like a glove where it counted and stretch where needed. We were a team together! I think I am tearing up over this loss! Like I say, I knew it was going to happen soon but I had no freaking clue that today when I lowered my right leg to climb off the stool in the kitchen, that I would hear such a horrifying RIPPPPPPPP echoing through the room and feel such a chilling breeze adventure between my butt cheeks to signify the spirit of my favorite jeans escaping. I have tried to figure out a way to downgrade my already downgraded jeans and somehow save them but I think this is a lost cause. I could patch it up but the jeans then lose their original comfort. I decided I would place a picture of the ripped jeans on my site as a memorial of such. Any nice thoughts or memories you may have with these jeans or with me while wearing these jeans are very welcomed! Sniffle, Sniffle. I think I will be able to pull it together. I am currently hanging out in my favorite sweatpants to try and relieve me of the pain that my loss today is causing.

Tap Tap ***** U guys out there?

Um, hello. Shhhh! Do not yell at me!!!!! I know I disappeared and left you guys sitting here with no reason about where or why I left. I have been contemplating my departure as well and honestly, I have no good reason. I was stalling for my new web page to be complete but than I just lingered longer for no damn good reason. I could have my Mom write me a "Please excuse HellCat for being absent note" but not really sure that would be sufficient. I noticed some tumbleweeds rolling around on my poor site (thanks Chuck) and figured attention was way over due. I Figured it was time for Ms. HellCat to kick herself in the be-hind. Thank goodness I am flexible enough for my foot to reach my rear. I took care of that chore this AM (aka this morning) and placed a nice little Nike imprint on my arse! Hope you guys are happy!! Wish I had some good material to throw out to you guys today. Just warming myself up to this whole writing thing again.

Lets do a miniature update on my life. Hmmmmm....lets see! Brianna turned 11 (oh lord the hormones are overwhelming) and Um, Christmas happened....New Years happened.....January was cold and had no excitement. February brought the Canadian Bacon's birthday on February 8th and lastly I boycotted Valentines by wearing all black and going out with all my lady friends. What else? Oh, I am taking a class this weekend to get certified as a personal trainer. So if any of you(s) need to get rid of some fluff in your puff than I will be able to assist you shortly. "You can do it!" Ha ha! Does anyone remember Tony Little or is my Mom the only one that had his VHS workout tapes?

Ok, of course I will post a picture of my Black Valentines and promise to come back tomorrow.